


A Malfunctioning Heart

by x_Medusa_x



Series: A Fault In Their Mechanisms [1]
Category: Alien Series, Alien: Covenant
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Follows Canon, Lots of Kissing tbh, Mild Smut, Reader Insert, Robosex, human/android relationships, like nothing heavily descriptive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 01:33:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10979613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/x_Medusa_x/pseuds/x_Medusa_x
Summary: That Walter was an android didn't bother you; you saw him as no different to any other person. That you couldn't be with him without some sort of dubious consent- or so you thought - was painful.Luckily, he's more self aware than you thought.





	A Malfunctioning Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first in a series of three; pre Covenant, during the events of Covenant, and post Covenant. I hope you enjoy the fluff, and stick around for what's to come!

He doesn't understand entirely the slight looks you give him sometimes. He's programmed to understand human emotions, even potentially feel them, but he doesn't understand the subtlety behind your gaze. 

You know the way you feel is ridiculous, illogical, potentially unethical too. You were a botanist, the only unmarried member of the Covenant's crew. You had hoped to find a life partner amongst the vast number of colonists; the rest of the crew often teased you about it, in fact. 

What they would think if they found out that the only person you had any sort of romantic interest in wasn't even really human, you didn't really want to know. Perhaps they would simply tease you; they were your friends, after all. Part of you worried that they would think you were crazy, or a terrible person. 

If he were anyone else, perhaps you could be more forward with how you felt. But, like most of the crew, you had read the synthetic instruction manual (an object you found vaguely repulsive. How could somebody have an instruction manual?), and deduced that any sort of advance you made on him would simply be returned out of some sort of force in his programming, or delicately and awkwardly rejected. 

It was incredibly frustrating. You envied your friends a little, getting to sleep beside their loved one each night. Your only hope was that perhaps, amongst the colonists, there would be a man who caught your attention, even if you knew, deep down, that it was hopeless. He was designed to be perfect. How could you possibly find anyone human who compared? 

Walter finds your slight gazes interesting, to say the least. Perhaps curious is a better word. His particular design is supposed to be more neutral than your average human; of course he can, to some degree, mimic human emotions. The problem is, he really isn't sure which he's supposed to feel. He finds himself pondering your secret glances more often than perhaps he should, trying to decipher what could possibly be behind them. 

At first, he thought perhaps it was morbid curiosity, or perhaps a minor fascination. After some pondering, he has some suspicions, but nothing he can really make sense of. Why on earth would a human woman be interested in him? Aside from his physical appearance, which his programming informs him is 'handsome'. 

He in particular is not specifically programmed to be a companion, more a man of many uses. He would not mind, he thinks, if you wanted some sort of physical closeness with him. He never expects that sort of thing to come to fruition, however. Expects you to be too afraid of societal backlash to ever move forward to him. 

Sometimes Walter likes to be wrong. 

You and the rest of the crew are horsing around in your last few hours before a long cryosleep. Daniels has just given a speech, and the majority of the crew have had a few drinks and their favourite earth meal. You had picked at your meal, dismal at the prospect of a long hypersleep. You know the pods are supposed to be perfectly safe, but still. 

You're sitting out in the corridor, away from the noise of the bridge, an empty cup set beside you. You're trying to drink as much water as possible, as recommended. That doesn't really make you feel any better. 

Walter can tell you're anxious as soon as he steps into the hallway. Even if you hadn't been tapping your fingers nervously, the look on your face is enough of a give away. 

"Are you alright?" He is aware of sounding a little less neutral. More human. An error, he is aware. He will run diagnostics later. 

You shrug, then consider. He's considerably more knowledgable on far more topics than you. Perhaps he can reassure you. 

"I'm not too keen on the idea of those pods." You admit, "being asleep so long? It's not natural. I mean, what if I don't wake up?"

It's not just you, either. What if nobody else wakes up? What if when you wake, you're just as lonely on Origae-6 as you are now? 

It's as if Walter hears your thoughts and fears. In truth he's just very perceptive at reading human expressions. 

"Everything will be well. You'll sleep entirely undisturbed, unless the ship suffers some damage or the crew is required." 

"What do you think Origae-6 will be like?" You hate seeming like a frightened little girl, certain he will find this display stupid or unnecessary. 

As it is, he has to consider his answer; of course, he could tell you how the weather is likely to be. How successful a colony could be. Whether the native wildlife is edible or tameable. Of course, he knows it's not that sort of answer that you seek. 

He is allowed to think for himself, of course, but his imagination is a little dusty. 

"I think it will be quiet. Unlike earth." He tilts his head, watches you consider him. "Something else is troubling you?" 

You duck your head; are you that much of an open book? Does he know the source of your awkwardness around him? 

"Do you think that humans who have... people like you... as, um? Companions? Are wrong?" 

"There are people like me," he uses your term with a faint smile, liking how you called him a person, "who are designed for such purposes." 

"I know that," you say, "but like... do you think it's wrong? For a person to desire and care for people like you? Don't your people get a say?" 

He is clever. Designed to be efficient, read between the lines, so to speak. 

"The people like me who are designed for such purposes? Not so much. If you mean someone very much like me? Yes. I am able to say no, to turn away advances." He understands your hesitation now. The reason your glances are always so secretive and followed by heavy blushes. Not disgust, but fear you would somehow exploit him. That in itself is a strange gesture, one he finds oddly intimate. 

"So..." oh god, are you really going to do this? You almost hesitate, but then you think of the cryopod waiting for you. "So, say I asked you to kiss me? You could say no if you wanted to?" 

There's that smile again. "Yes, I could say no." 

"Would you?" 

"Kiss you, or say no?" He's doing that quite frankly adorable little head tilt again. You're a little taken aback by how frank his question is. You should have seen that coming. 

"Um." 

He's aware enough to read between the lines, after all. To decide for himself which to choose. Besides, he's more than a little curious as to how a human would feel, should he hold one in an affectionate embrace. If he's going to find out, he's much rather it be you who teach him. 

He knows how kissing is meant to be; of course, he knows most things, or at least, knows of most things. The physical act in itself is far different to watching it happen on a screen, or reading a description in a book. 

He supposes he must be doing something right, whether it's the way one of his hands is gently cradling your head, fingers brushing through hair that he idly hopes will still be this soft after a hypersleep, perhaps the way his other hand settles lightly on your hip, pulling you closer to him. Perhaps it's the way his tongue slips gently into your mouth as he kisses you. You sigh gently against his lips, lean into him. Ah. Perhaps it was that last one, after all. 

You're waiting to wake up. Surely this is a dream, or a hallucination. This cannot possibly be real. Is this real? Is he really kissing you? Expressing a desire for you of his own free will? 

"I cannot give you the things most humans like," he warns you; you'd like to really, really think about that properly, but considering the fact that his mouth is centimetres from yours, you can't exactly think straight. 

"Like what?" You ask anyway, feeling as though he may be annoyed if you don't at least seem curious. 

"A family. At least. Not of my own body." He finds it a little strange when you laugh. 

"I don't care about that sort of thing," you tell him, "and if we ever want a child... there are hundreds of embryos aboard the Covenant. We could just adopt." 

Walter finds himself smiling wryly at the thought; what would the other humans think of an android and a human raising a child together? It simply isn't done. Somehow, though, when you say it, it seems more plausible. More doable. 

"I suppose we could." He agrees, "there are other things-"

He doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence. You press a gentle finger to his lips. 

"Hush." Your lips find his throat, "I only want you." 

Desire is an unfamiliar emotion for him. He wasn't aware he was even programmed with the capacity for such things. He is, he supposes, a man of many uses. It worries him at first, that perhaps his want for you is only a programming malfunction. That he will end up hurting you. Perhaps that in itself speaks volumes. 

"Perhaps here is not the best place?" He has to force that suggestion from his lips; his body is human, and responds to your touch quite well indeed, not to mention entirely inappropriately for a public walkway. 

"Wha- oh." Your face reddens with that sweet little blush he's come to associate with him. 

Your assigned cabin is closer than his. The instant he enters it, he finds himself relaxed. The cabin is small, built to standard of course, but you've found ways to make it your own. A handmade blanket on the bed. A small potted plant - a succulent - on the bench top. A woven mat - made of different fabric rags - placed neatly on the floor. A small stack of books. 

He realises a little too late that he's perhaps paying more attention to his surroundings than to you. You don't seem to mind. 

"Do you like it?" You haven't really showed anybody else your room, afraid of being seen as strange or weird for your taste in decor. 

Walter isn't really sure whether he likes or dislikes things, if he's honest, but he finds the surroundings pleasant. 

"You have a unique aesthetic." He says, his tone making it very plain that he doesn't mind the surroundings whatsoever. You catch him eyeing your small collection of books and make a mental note to tell him that he's welcome to read any of them whilst you're sleeping. You aren't sure whether he'll find all of them to his taste, but you hope he'll appreciate new reading fodder anyway. 

"Are you, uh? Are you sure this is alright?" You know the implication of him taking you to your room, but still. You don't want to force him into anything. Want to give him as much of a chance to retract consent as possible. 

"If it wasn't alright, I would not have led you in this direction." He wonders whether he should practise sounding more human, even though that is not one of his directives nor functions. He dismisses the idea almost as quickly as he pondered it. You did not seem to mind that he didn't sound perfectly human. 

It's surprisingly easy, getting each other undressed. You haven't been this exposed to anybody in quite a while. For a moment, you're afraid. He can undoubtedly see every flaw in your form. Every scar, every freckle, every line in your skin. You wonder briefly whether you look unappealing to him, when he is flawless, sitting poised and calm on the edge of your bed. 

He senses your discomfort, wonders at it for a few seconds, then puzzles over it before drawing the conclusion that you don't like being exposed like this; perhaps you're afraid he doesn't like looking at you? In reality he's committing every inch of you to memory. Just in case. 

"Come here?" It comes out more of a question than a request. He isn't used to making requests, and this is a big one. It's even stranger that you comply with the request, settling comfortably in his lap, almost painfully aware of his arousal pressing against you. God, you want him more than ever. 

Between heated kisses, you manage to ask a question. 

"What - what do you want?" 

It's his turn to seem mildly embarrassed. 

"This is something I have only ever... witnessed." He admits, "I would like... I would like to try this with you, but you may have to take the lead, as it were." 

Well, that's fine with you. Not like you weren't already dripping with want for him. Him basically asking you to teach him? Even better. God. You have to bite down on your bottom lip as he lifts you, helps to guide you down onto his length. A soft exhale passes through your lips; this feels even better than you could have ever imagined. Even better that he's so warm and responsive, kissing softly at your throat as you start to roll your hips, slowly at first. You have to adjust, and you don't want to overwhelm him. 

"Is this okay?" You find yourself asking, breath a little hitched. 

"Yes," his voice is soft, muffled against your skin and heavy with desire. His hands are everywhere as you grow more confident, soft little moans tearing from your lips as he fills you, hips finally lifting to meet each of your movements, cautiously at first, then a little rougher. He decides he likes the rougher pace, likes the soft little noises you make when the head of his length brushes the specific spot inside you. 

He recalls something he read once; drawing you closer in his arms, he moves, perhaps a little faster than your average human, so that you're pressed beneath him on the bed. You gasp his name, and for a moment, he's afraid he's hurt you. Then he sees the delighted expression on your face, and smiles, leaning down to kiss you, as if your delight is catching. Perhaps it is. 

He's becoming awfully aware of how warm you are around him. How warm and wet and tight, how right this feels when, theoretically, it shouldn't feel like anything at all. There's so much warmth and pleasure in holding you, in pressing his length deeper inside you. In holding your thigh tight around his waist as your eyes flutter closed, his name falling from your lips. 

He likes the way your fingers card through his neatly combed hair. The way you whisper his name like it's something precious that belongs only to him, rather than a generic designation. Perhaps to you, there are no others. Perhaps you see him as unique. The only one of his kind. Perhaps this is true, but he has no brother model to compare himself to. If he is malfunctioning, even a little, he decides he doesn't mind. Not if this is the result. 

He shifts your leg and you gasp, your fingers grasping at the handmade blanket on your bed, multicoloured fabric balled in your hand as you almost sheepishly beg him for more. He's happy to comply, thinks he would be happy if this was his designation for the duration of his existence, having never known such desire or devotion. At least, not directed toward him. 

You're almost embarrassed at the sheer amount of begging you're doing, but the truth is he feels so good, and you're so close, and you don't ever want this moment to end. 

You're only human, though, and like any human, you're thankfully capable of reaching climax. Walter decides he'll file away the sweet, blissful expression on your face as he holds you. He has seen people climax before, of course, but he cannot find words to describe how wonderful it is to feel you tighten around him, to feel your fingers in his hair, to hear soft gasps and moans, a breath of his name, then your entire body relaxing in his arms. 

He's not sure he can even climax, himself. He supposes he'll find out. When he does, it's a surprise to both of you. You giggle and stroke his hair as he moans softly, filling you with a warmth that he supposes must purely be for an element of realism. You don't mind. 

For a while, you just hold each other. After what seems like forever, he leaves your side to dress, bringing you your suit for hypersleep. 

"It's time to go." 

"I don't want to." You know you sound petulant, but after the evening's events, how can you possibly sleep?

He smiles faintly, helps you with the zip of your suit as you walk to the cryo deck. 

"I'll be right here when you wake up." He assures you gently. Most of the crew are already in cryo, the last few saying goodnight as suits are zipped, pillows readjusted, life support double checked. 

"You promise?" You ask as you climb into your assigned pod. 

He leans down, as though to check something, but in reality, to steal a kiss. 

"I promise." 

Through the glass of your pod, your hands touch. As you drift off, he watches over you. 

You dream of Walter, of his touch, and of a new life.


End file.
